


Kalliste

by aubreyli



Series: Wanderlust [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Feelings, I really like Santorini a lot okay?, M/M, Non-explicit reference to sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3235124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aubreyli/pseuds/aubreyli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine go to Santorini -- a shameless love letter to one of the most beautiful places on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kalliste

**Author's Note:**

> The title, "Kalliste," comes from an old name for the island of Santorini itself. Appropriately, Kalliste means "The Beautiful One."

In hindsight, Kurt thinks, as he flips through the weather report for the upcoming week (sun, sun, and more sun, with temperatures edging toward 90), he probably should have pushed harder for Paris.  Or any place more temperate, because Kurt's complexion isn't really built for Mediterranean climates, thanks to the German and Irish (and _Viking_ , according to his granddad) blood running through his veins.   Not to mention, the heat puts severe limitations on fashion possibilities, since Kurt refuses to wear Bermuda shorts, floppy sun hats, or _flip-flops._

But they’d both been seduced by the images of white-washed houses against a sapphire sea, of vibrant sunsets on the caldera, and beaches covered in volcanic black and red, and even now, with a nasty sunburn stinging his shoulders and back (SPF 100, _and_ he was under an umbrella half the time, how was that fair?), he finds it difficult to really regret his choice.

Blaine hasn’t stopped grinning since they stepped off the ferry.  He looks like he belongs here, all sun-kissed skin and wind-tousled curls (after the first day, when he discovered that the sun was actually melting the gel off his head).  He smiles at everyone he meets, and they smile back, charmed by Blaine’s effortless beauty and obvious joy.  Kurt, relegated to photographer once he noticed the redness spreading across his skin, has already filled one SD card with photos of Blaine -- running through the surf to rescue a child’s beach ball, waving to Kurt as a wave crests behind him, looking like a Bond girl coming out of the water, sunning himself face-up on the beach, sunning himself face- _down_ on the beach (okay, that one was just because he really liked how Blaine’s wet swim-trunks clung to his ass). 

Their hotel is wonderful; Kurt had found the place, using his Internet deal-scouring skills that get him haute couture at department store prices.  It’s a small villa, owned by an adorable middle-aged couple, who smile fondly at them when Kurt introduces Blaine as his boyfriend.  The place is affordable because it doesn’t face the caldera, but a gem because the balcony on the top floor suite does.  They’d spent the first evening on that balcony, eating paper-wrapped pitas and drinking cheap wine right out of the bottle, breathing clean ocean air as the sky changed color around them, blue to gold to orange and red and violet, until the sun dipped below the horizon.

They made love slowly, that first night, face-to-face, Kurt in Blaine’s lap because his back was already starting to peel.  It felt as though time was standing still for the two of them, together on a soft, white bed, with moonlight pouring in through the window.

Blaine plans their second day, and Kurt refuses to let his uncooperative epidermis get in the way of their fun.  They visit the ruins of an ancient town, and marvel at the beauty of the frescoes, even in their current state.  Blaine, who likes history and researched this beforehand, regales Kurt about the history of this town, and its eventual destruction by a volcanic eruption.  His excitement catches the attention of another visitor, who they discover is a professor; he guides them through the rest of the exhibits, even tells them about how this town might have inspired the tale of Atlantis. 

They spend the afternoon at a fishing town, and try shrimp fried in feta cheese (delicious; Kurt would live on it if he could) and calamari (chewier than he thought, but with a pleasant crunch).  Then they head into town, and go to a club.  The vibe is different here than at Scandals back home, or even in New York – like everything else in this place, it feels relaxed and comfortable.  He sees beautiful people everywhere he looks (though no one compares to Blaine), but they don’t make him feel threatened, or insecure.  A man who looks like he stepped out of an underwear ad asks Kurt to dance while Blaine’s getting their drinks; Kurt smiles and shakes his head, pointing to Blaine, at the bar.  The man follows his gaze, and grins back at Kurt, before continuing on his way.  They dance long into the night – slowly, cheek-to-cheek, or in an exhilarating whirl around each other. 

By the time they trudge back to the hotel, they’re both too tired for sex.  But Kurt stays awake and gazes at Blaine, long dark lashes fanned out against his cheeks, soft mouth open slightly as he breathes in and out…

They don’t have anything planned for the third and final day of their stay, so they decide to explore the caldera.  Armed with long sleeves, sunscreen, and a broad-brimmed sun hat that Blaine promises does not make Kurt look like Laura Ingalls, they walk hand-in-hand down the narrow, winding path.  Kurt hadn’t noticed on the previous days how many weddings take place here; today, it seems that everywhere they look, there are women in white dresses and men in dark suits.  He catches Blaine looking at them too, and their eyes meet for a long, wordless moment.  Then Kurt remarks on the precarious perch some of the couples have, on top of the domed roofs of buildings, and Blaine laughs, and the moment is gone.

They skip lunch, choosing instead to have an early dinner.  Blaine reserved them a table at an actual restaurant, their one splurge while they’re here.  The restaurant doesn’t have an ocean view, but it’s still over half full by the time they arrive, which, according to Blaine, is a good sign of its quality.  They are served by the owner himself, who is immediately charmed by Blaine’s attempt to actually order in Greek, and spends a good portion of their meal teaching Blaine new words to say.  The food is incredible, whole platters of appetizers for them to sample, savory and juicy cuts of meat, flaky pastry that melts on their tongues.  They gush compliments at the owner when he comes to check in on them, and in return, he gives them a free glass of dessert wine.  At the end of the meal, they leave him a large tip, and he wishes them a safe journey home.

Kurt smiles, and says “ _Efharisto_ ,” the only Greek word he’s managed to remember.  The man beams, and gives them another serving of flaky pastry to take back to the hotel.

The sky is still orange-red when they return to their room, and they wordlessly head back out onto the balcony to see their last sunset on this beautiful island.  Kurt takes it all in – the white buildings with their blue domed roofs, the black cliffs, the shimmering water, the fiery sky, and Blaine, head tilted back as the wind blows through his hair, skin painted gold by the setting sun. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, so that he can burn this image into his memory for the rest of his life. 

“Kurt?”

He opens his eyes, and sees Blaine watching him, head tilted inquisitively.

“Is everything all right?”

Kurt smiles at him, and thinks about the ring he has hidden in his pocket – his father’s first ring that his mother had put on his finger on their wedding day.  He thinks about the speech that he’d written and painstakingly memorized on the plane ride here, Blaine asleep on his shoulder.  He thinks about Blaine saying that they’ll wait this time, until they’re both ready, and this time, when they are…

“Yes,” he replies.  He’d been so nervous before, but he doesn’t feel any of that now.  He just feels… certain.  Ready. 

“I want to ask you something,” Kurt says, to the love of his life.  Then he drops to one knee.


End file.
